


Tradition

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Sam, Big Brother Dean, Family, Gen, Gen Work, Light Angst, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:59:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1899882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. For Sam, there were few traditions he enjoyed more than the one on the 4th of July & lighting fireworks with his brother. Here are three times when Sam didn’t think he’d be able to only to be surprised at how far Dean would go to keep that tradition alive for him. *may have spoilers toward the end*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Minor language.
> 
> Spoilers/Tags: This isn’t tagged to anything but by the end it may contain spoilers as it’s set after the season 9 finale so be aware of this.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. This is written for fun.
> 
> Author Note: Yes, I know. It’s been awhile since I posted a gen piece and since a wonderfully loyal reader (Jily4) asked for a gen piece the muse decided to comply. So here is a short 4th of July piece set at various times in Sam’s life from his teen years to a time at Stanford to finally his most recent time. Enjoy!

**Tradition**

****

** 1999, someplace in the Midwest: **

“Okay, so I blew a huge chunk of what I had left from paying the rent but I think we should manage to make a lot of noise tonight with…hey, what the hell is this?” 20-year old Dean Winchester stopped in mid comment as he stepped into the motel they were staying at this week to stare at the packed duffel bags and the sulking 16-year old little brother that was waiting for him. “Sam?”

“Dad called,” was the simple reply and just like that Dean knew what was wrong with the brother that had been trying desperately to hide his still joyous thoughts at their little tradition on the 4th of July.

Dean frowned and reached for his phone. Their Dad had parked them in this damn motel a week earlier with orders to stay put while he and Caleb hunted some monster in the next state. Normally Dean bitched about the monotony of a hot summer stuck in cheap motels but ever since Sam and their Dad had begun to really fight he took these moments of peace when he could find them.

As the holiday rolled closer he was actually glad John was hunting out of state because while it was fine to blow money on weapons and ammo his strict ex-Marine father would be less than pleased with the amount of cash he’d just blown on fireworks just to see Sam smile a little.

Ever since the year he and Sam set that box of fireworks off in that field it had become sort of a tradition for them and Dean would not break that or see Sam upset just because their Dad had called and probably needed him for something.

“Hey,” he didn’t bother with a greeting as he placed the call, scowling as he listened to the stern gruff orders to pack up and hit the road. “Yeah, fine. We’ll get on the road in the morning,” Dean saw Sam’s head lift from where it was resting on his chest, hazel eyes widening slightly as if he couldn’t believe he’d just heard his brother say that. By the sharp snap from John Winchester it was plain he also couldn’t believe it.

Dean made a motion to the duffels and the 1967 Chevy Impala parked outside while rolling his eyes at the lecturing tone on the other end of the phone. “I heard you the first time you said it, Dad. I also know that even if Sam and I left this little hellhole you left us in that we wouldn’t get to you and Caleb until late tomorrow evening so waiting a few hours won’t matter.”

Under any other circumstance, any other time maybe Dean wouldn’t have mouthed off or refused one of John’s orders since he knew that was never a wise thing to do but on this night, when he’d been so close to actually hearing his often moody and sullen brother laugh he decided to risk the yelling that would come later.

“Look, if you knew you were going to need an extra set of hands on this job you should’ve called yesterday and then I probably still would’ve told you to wait because…” Dean took a slow breath for this one. He wasn’t stupid. He knew if he told John the real reason he was balking at leaving right that second that it would be Sam who got screamed at later on or lectured about being spoiled or whatever the hell else his Dad would say to just start a damn fight. So knowing this, Dean took his other option…he lied and would take the heat himself. “I’ve made plans with a girl and I’m not breaking them to spend the night driving through empty space with a sulky teenager. We’ll catch up to you tomorrow night. If you need help sooner I’m sure you can find a local hunter.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not thinking with my head. Right, got it, Dad. I gotta go. I’ll call Caleb in the morning when we’re on the road. Bye!” Dean snapped the phone closed after shutting it off, blowing out a hard breath of frustration.

“You…just refused Dad,” Sam was standing in the door staring at him like he’d grown a second head, stunned. “You…never refuse Dad, Dean. Or you never refuse an order that has something to do with a hunt. Why would you…?”

Shooting a sharp look around the motel room to be sure it was clear of anything of theirs, Dean grabbed the book that Sam must have been reading to toss it at him while motioning him to the car so he could go to the office and check them out and maybe get some of the rent he’d just paid back.

“I didn’t exactly lie. I fudged the truth some,” Dean shrugged, hating it when he was shot those damn big eyes that he knew could go wet and soft at the drop of a dime. “I do have plans and you do sorta act like a girl sometimes so…he can assume what he wants about that.”

Sam stared at his brother for a moment longer before slowly smiling. “Thanks, Dean,” he murmured, knowing his no chick flick moments older brother would make a face or snarky comment but the 16-year old reached out to quickly hug Dean for something so simple as a night of fireworks.

“Yeah, just remember to run when I yell ‘fire in the hole’ this year, geek boy,” Dean smirked, giving Sam’s shoulder a playful nudge while also intentionally running his fingers through his brother’s too long hair just because he knew Sam would let him. “Let me go check us out of here and then we can go light ‘em off.”

Sitting on the passenger side of the car that had always been Sam’s home, the car that would also always belong to Dean the younger Winchester watched the sun set with an almost boyish excitement. It wasn’t just the setting off of fireworks that made Sam excited and happy but the time he got to spend with his big brother doing such a normal thing.

They had such few traditions that Sam hoped this one never changed.

** 2002, Stanford California: **

Summer in California was hot but as 19-year old Sam Winchester sat under a tree in a small local park waiting for the sun to go down fully so the city’s annual fireworks display would start he was also bored as hell.

He didn’t really regret his choice to leave his family so he could come to Stanford to school. Well, he regretted leaving his brother since regardless of how big a pain in the ass Dean could be at times he was still Sam’s big brother, his role model and idol and…he missed him.

As he picked at the black band he still wore Sam leaned his head back to watch the sky and thought to the times that Dean would use his last few dollars to buy them fireworks to light off. There little tradition. It wasn’t until just last week that Sam realized he’d been the one to break that because he was off in California and his brother was probably on some hunt.

Sam wondered if Dean even thought about what they used to do on the 4th of July when he felt his phone vibrate that he was getting a text. Frowning, Sam pulled it out to look. No one texted him unless it was during school and one of his few friends needed help on some project.

Opening the phone, the younger Winchester felt his eyes begin to burn as he recognized the number almost instantly. Sam’s fingers shook when he opened the message to see a photo of a box of fireworks and the message ‘ _fire in the hole, Sammy_!’ and for the first time that day Sam smiled.

Another photo message was sent and this one showed the night sky lit up with whatever had been in the box to give a brilliant display of colored lights showering down and Sam suddenly missed Dean even more. He stared at the photo all through then the park let off their display and to Sam the ones his brother gave him would always be the best.

** 2014, outside the Men of Letters bunker, Kansas: **

Traditions hadn’t meant much to Sam Winchester as he’d had very few of them growing up. There were a few that he and Dean always seemed to keep up with though after Sam left Stanford and they began to hunt together again.

Out of the ones they did have the 4th of July one had always been Sam’s favorite. It didn’t seem like he’d ever outgrow his love of seeing the night sky lit up with showers of multi-colored lights.

This year as he sat on the hood of the Impala outside of the bunker he tipped back a bottle of beer while watching the distant lights from the town’s large display.

Sam had almost been tempted to go into town, go to the bar and watch them but then he’d made the mistake of walking past his brother’s room in the bunker and the sudden wash of angst and emotion of loss and anger hit him so now he was sitting outside drinking beers that he should’ve been sharing with his brother in some field.

That’s what Sam knew he should be doing if their lives hadn’t been screwed over…again. If he even knew where his brother was or if he still had a brother.

Glancing to where his phone sat beside him, Sam considered placing yet another call but he was tired of making useless pleas to Dean’s voicemail so he reached for another bottle of beer.

“Hello, Moose.”

The glass shattered on the gravel as Sam closed his eyes, barely resisting the urge that came to mind as his hand moved to the knife he kept on him. “I’m halfway to drunk. I hate you with a passion that I’ve hated no one but Lilith. I have the demon killing blade on me and really do want to shove it where your heart should be if you had one so right now is not a good time to come close to me.”

“Yes, and I’m not any happier playing messenger boy than you are to have me here but what can I say? Your damn brother scares even the King of Hell these days and he sent me,” Crowley responded but didn’t get close enough for a blade to be tossed his way. “He said you’d probably be doing this. Bloody amazing that even right now Squirrel’s got you pegged.”

Sam slid off the hood to turn slowly, hate plain in his eyes as he stared at the demon he blamed for his most current problems. “What do you want, Crowley?” he demanded tightly.

“It’s not what I want, Moose. It’s what your brother wants,” Crowley replied, snapping his fingers before the hunter could either make a move to attack or reply. “Play nice now.”

Sam was swearing bitterly and hurling threats at the demon when his stomach pitched and he nearly fell when he lost his balance as he went from hard gravel to soft grass; knowing on instinct that the goddamn demon had just teleported him somewhere.

“Damn it, Crowley!” he yelled, trying to adjust his eyes to near pitch black of wherever he’d been taken. “This is so not the night to screw with me!”

“Hey.”

The deep low voice had Sam freezing in mid-threat. Dealing with the smug demon was one thing but he knew he wasn’t drunk enough or emotionally prepared to handle this voice. And not on this night.

“I am going to kill that demon,” he muttered, not sure if he was speaking to himself or the man…Sam refused to think of his brother as anything else, standing behind him.

“Yeah, half the time I still want to do that and probably will before this is over with,” Dean Winchester still sounded like himself. He still sounded like the smart ass hunter he’d been since the first time he’d held a weapon. It was only if he let his concentration lapse or he lost his temper that he was reminded of how much he wasn’t that man anymore. “Sammy.”

The nickname could still make Sam react, even then. He turned slowly to see they were in a field with a back drop of trees. “Dean.”

Despite it all, despite the changes to Sam this was still his brother and always would be. He refused to lose hope that somewhere inside was something that he could save. “I’ve called you.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were ready to hear from me yet. I still don’t really,” Dean could tell even from this distance how ragged and raw his little brother looked and knew it was because of him and the changes made.

“So…why am I here then?” Sam asked, glancing around curiously. “Wherever here is.”

“It’s a field not that far away from the bunker,” Dean told him, taking a cautious step forward as if to gauge his brother’s reaction and when Sam didn’t tense or go for the blade then he crossed the rest of the distance. “I’d actually scouted it a few months ago just for tonight.”

Sam blinked in confusion until it hit him what Dean was saying and he had to fight not to lose control of the bottled emotion that wanted to come out. “I…I thought you’d forget,” he got out in what he hoped was a steady voice. “I mean the whole dying and waking up a demon or something thing…I thought with all of that you’d forget…this or…”

“Since you were 13 there has been three times we’ve missed setting these off, Sam,” Dean nudged the box on the ground with his boot to hide his slow smile when he saw Sam’s lips curve at the sight. “I was in Hell the one time and Purgatory the next and then the time I thought you were locked in the Cage. I know this isn’t the ideal situation and I wish I could give you normal or what even passed for normal for us but…”

“I don’t want normal, I just want my brother,” the words were out before Sam could stop them and he mentally cursed himself, fearing he’d just pushed Dean away when he felt a light touch to the back of his neck and this time he didn’t bother to stop the tear that fell.

“I will always be your brother even if I don’t know what the hell else I am right this moment,” Dean knew with stronger emotions his eyes could and had changed to nearly black and that was not what he wanted to do in front of Sam right then. “I won’t say I can ever be the man I was since we both know Metatron ruined that and the Mark finished it but I’ll still be your brother…bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam gave a watery laugh. He knew how wrong this was. He knew as a hunter what he should feel but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way. Sam honestly didn’t even think if he learned there was no hope that he’d feel hate or anything like he did for Crowley. This would still be Dean in his eyes. “So…we doing this?”

Dean held up his lighter with a cocky grin that was pure Dean. “Let’s light ‘em up, little brother,” he let Sam arrange the assorted fireworks in the box and then he lit a fuse, stood back and on some inner instinct was reaching to grab for Sam’s arm to move him. “Fire in the hole!”

They both took off running and by the time the first bottle rocket whooshed into the sky Sam was laughing. He turned his face into the sky to watch the mass amount of fireworks launch and then rain down in brightly colored showers that had always made him feel like a kid.

“Thanks, Dean,” he said and didn’t care if his voice shook when he said it. If this might be the last time he’d ever have this moment then he’d treasure it. “I…I…”

“You taking care of my car?” Dean asked suddenly as if knowing what Sam was leading up to saying and not ready to face that huge moment yet as they stood, shoulders touching to watch the fireworks continue to launch and come down.

“Of course,” Sam returned with a tiny snort. “Like I wouldn’t?”

Dean hummed a little in agreement, sliding his green eyes next to him to take a better look now that the lights from the sky illuminated Sam’s face more. “You taking care of you, little brother?”

“Not so much,” Sam admitted, relaxing at the familiar touch on his neck; his brother’s one sure way to offer support without words. “I caught the kitchen on fire twice,” he turned slightly to meet narrowed eyes. “Come home?”

Two words that should be so simple but weren’t or at least not for Dean, not right then. He’d died. He’d become something that not even Crowley was sure of but as he looked into soft wet and big eyes that were close to going to pure sad puppy dog eyes he knew what his answer would be.

“I guess I have to if for no other reason than to keep you from burning the place to the ground and doing something stupid to get yourself hurt or killed,” Dean shifted his gaze back to the sky to avoid the full impact of his brother’s Puppy Dog Eyes of Doom as he’d nicknamed them years ago. “Of course you might have to redo some wards or something depending on which ones work or don’t work.”

“First thing,” Sam promised, voice nearly as stunned at Dean’s response as he had been back in 1999 when his brother had refused their Dad’s orders just to set off fireworks with him. “Will Crowley let you come…I mean…”

“Crowley doesn’t control me, Sammy,” Dean snorted, seeing the lights starting to dim and taking a deep breath. “I’ll stay with you for as long as I can but it won’t be easy.”

“I’ll find a way to make this right, Dean,” Sam promised, feeling the light squeeze on his neck and knowing it was as close to emotion as he was likely to get right then. “We will light fireworks again next year and the next and the next and you won’t be like this. Promise.”

Dean didn’t reply to that. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t make Sam hurt more than he knew it would if there was no way to fix this or if the situation got worse. “Let’s go home, Sammy,” he didn’t relish the eight mile walk but he also wouldn’t use the power he knew he had now with Sam; he wouldn’t remind the kid of the changes more than he had to and not when he could see the smile on his brother’s face.

A final burst of lights shot up to shower down on the brothers and as Dean watched his brother laugh as the night sky light up he hoped he could at least keep this tradition alive for Sam next year.

 **The End**  


End file.
